Eidolon Am I
by Vain
Summary: REVELATIONS ARCH: BOOK 2 ~ The sequel to For They Shall Be Filled. "This is all, first and foremost, a story. It is not a tale, or an epic, or a legend; it is just a story. Plain and simple. It is my story. "
1. Prologue: In The Begining

**

Eidolon Am I

The Revelations Arch: Book 2

~ The future is only a reaction to the past. ~

By: Vain 12/19/2001

~***~

This story is the sequel to "For They Shall Be Filled" and is **Book Two of The Revelations Arch**.  

And, before you panic: _NO_, this story will not be as long as its predecessor.  I think.  I hope.  Probably . . . Er . . . Maybe . . . Okay, I don't really have the slightest clue how long this will be—I just write what the voices tell me to.  *The muses all cheer* They're eeeeeeeevil . . . 

  **If you have not read "For They Shall Be Filled," GO READ IT NOW!!**

If you have read "For They Shall Be Filled," good for you!!!  My muses and I salute you.  You should also have figured out by now that I don't own Digimon, or any of the characters pertaining to it.  

I do however—as far as I know—own most of the plot bunnies here, the Four Original Guardians of the Digidestined (Kazunori Saito, Sanghee Kiangtzu, ect.), the concept of the Sacred Triangle, and the Original Nine.  Genka Millenniumon is on loan from the gracious Ajora.  Special thanks go to **Herongale**, **Dante**, **Meimi, the Guardian,** and **Ajora**.  This wouldn't be possible without all your help.  Thank you.  ^_~

The quotes are from the Thomas Nelson version of the King James Bible © 1979, Belgium.

Enjoy the fic and **READ AND REVIEW** please!

**~*********************~**

**A Quick Guide for the Uninitiated - Japanese to American:**

Ichijouji Ken = Ken Ichijouji

Ichijouji Osamu = Sam Ichijouji

Motomiya Daisuke (Dai) = Davis Motomiya

Takaishi Takeru (TK) = TK (Takeru) Takaishi

Ishida Yamato (Yama) = Matt Ishida

Inoue Miyako (Miya) = Yolei Inoue

Hida Iori = Cody Hida

Yagami Hikari = Kari Kamiya

Yagami Taichi = Tai Kamiya 

Izumie Koushiro = Izzy Izumie

Kido Jyou = Joe Kido

Takenouchi Sora = Sora Takenouchi

Tachikawa Mimi = Mimi Tachikawa

Akiyama Ryo = Ryou Akiyama

Tailmon = Gatomon

Arachnemon = Arukenimon

Vandemon = Myotismon

Piemon = Piedmon

Qinglongmon = Azulongmon

Jogress = DNA Digivolve

Digimon Kaiser = Digimon Emperor

This story takes place after episodes 26. "Jogress Evolution, Two Hearts as One" and  

27. "Invincible Fusion! Paildramon," and before episode 28. "The Bug Master's Trap"—in the American version, that's after Stingmon and X-Vmon first Jogress digivolve and before Giga House.

**~*********************~**

Prologue In the Beginning 

**~*****~**

**"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.  **

**The earth was without form and void, **

**and darkness was upon the face of the deep."**

Genesis 1:1 

**~***************~**

**Seed:** (s­ēd) _n._ ovule, which gives origins to a new plant; that from which anything springs; origin; source; progeny; offspring;  _v.t._ to remove seeds from.

**To seed:** to produce flower or seed at the expense of roots or leaves; to go to waste or ruin.  [O.E. _saed_]

**~***************~**

The room had no walls, but it gave the distinct impression that it was the type of place echoes belonged to.  Instead their voices were soft whispers against the white glowing non-walls.  The light came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time and weird half shadows were tossed this way and that, flickering like embers that died in the air before they could land.

Daemon's long heavy robes trailed behind him, a dark stain in presence of all the Light.  "It would really be quite simple this way.  Should you choose any other course of action . . ."

Qinglongmon's Light flared briefly, an almost imperceptible spark that everyone present noticed.  "Are you threatening us, Daemon?"

The cowled digimon bowed his head.  "Of course not.  I was merely pointing out a fact . . . Your options _are_ fairly limited."

Zhuqiaomon made an odd hissing noise.  "Do not dictate our options to us!  We were ancient when you were still an embryo, Daemon.  You would do well to remember that."

"Stop bickering," Xuanwumon sighed.  "It's not going to get anything done."  The light that was the Guardian of the North fluctuated slightly as it turned back to the Mega type digimon before them.  "Now, Daemon, I don't think you quite understand what you are demanding—"

"I understand perfectly, Xuanwumon.  Do you all understand that the seed is stirring?"

"The seed has been stirring ever since that mess with Diaboromon and that fool Child from America," Baihumon muttered in a bored tone.  "And don't glare at me so, Qinglongmon.  Willis is your Child and your responsibility so that entire incident was your fault.  You should just be happy that my Daisuke was there."

Qinglongmon bristled.  "Takeru and Hikari were also there, in case you've forgotten.  And you're hardly one to talk given the debacle with Kazunori."

"_All_ the Children were there," Zhuqiaomon snapped in irritation.  "Can we return to the issue at hand, please?"

Daemon sneered beneath his hood as Xuanwumon continued.  "Your . . . concern for Ichijouji is appreciated, Daemon, but what you ask is not possible.  Besides, precautions are already in the works.  We are confident that the Spore can be extracted before the Moon=Millenniumon rises."

The Mega shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide his growing irritation from the Gods before him.  "You still think you can control his power?  All your efforts have failed.  How many times have you destroyed him?  10?  100?  1,000?  And yet every time he rises.  And partnering him to Akiyama . . . That was _such_ a success—"

"Sarcasm," Baihumon growled, "will not help you plead your case."

The digimon ducked his head by way of apology.  "I beg your pardon, Baihumon . . . But my proposal will eliminate the need for Millenniumon at all.  By allowing me to take possession of the Sphere of Miracles—"

"We could be setting ourselves up for yet another disaster!  Do you really think that we would elevate you to our level given your track record?" Zhuqiaomon snarled.  "Your deeds as Devimon have not been forgotten.  It was our will that released Angemon's digivolution that destroyed you on File Island and it was by our will that your reformatting was delayed.  The course you took to your current digivolution was forced and unnatural and never would have been permitted had we not been distracted by the Children's Tests.  Tests which you interrupted and which very nearly resulted in disaster for the boy Motomiya.  You, Daemon, are an aberration and an insult to our very existence.  You are the product of human-made sin and if I had my way of things you would have been obliterated the moment you digi—"

"I believe that is quite enough, Zhuqiaomon!"

The lights danced as the other Digi-Gods pulled slightly away from Qinglongmon.  

Xuanwumon's light faded slightly.  "Your request is denied, Daemon.  I'm sorry."

A pair of red eyes narrowed in an unseen face.  "No.  You're not sorry yet."  The Mega bowed slightly.  "I see you leave me no choice then.  Farewell."

He vanished in a pulse of Darkness and there was silence in the Great Chamber.

After a moment Baihumon turned to Zhuqiaomon.  "That little tirade of yours was profoundly stupid."

The Guardian of the South snorted.  "His arrogance is unprecedented."

"I wouldn't say that," Qinglongmon muttered.

"What?"

"Must you two fight constantly?" Xuanwumon demanded in exasperation.

The two Guardians flickered guiltily.

"What do you think he meant by 'we're not sorry yet'?" Baihumon asked in quiet voice.

Zhuqiaomon flared.  "Who cares?  He's nothing compared to us.  He has no real power."

"The same can be said for us."  Qinglongmon's light shifted as he seemed to turn from the others.  "Ichijouji's Control Spires still bar us from the world.  Our eyes cannot see as far as they used to and it is getting increasingly difficult to touch the Mortal Plane.  Gennai cannot be everywhere at once; Kazunori and Sanghee are proof of that."

Baihumon sighed.  "Perhaps it is time then.  Xuanwumon?  It is ultimately your decision." 

The Guardian of the North dimmed even further.  "But is he ready yet?  We have caused him so much pain already . . . This will not bring him any happiness."

"And what of Gennai?" Qinglongmon countered gently.  "What of his happiness?"

Zhuqiaomon flared again, almost blinding next the Xuanwumon soft glow.  "Gennai has defied us at every turn."

"And he has also protected us and concealed our infirmity at every step," Xuanwumon murmured in a tired voice.  "You're right of course, Baihumon.  It's time.  It's past time."

The Guardian of the West sounded almost sympathetic as he spoke, "Then you will release him?"

"Yes."  There was the impression of a nod.  "Yes.  It's time for the boy to take his place in the world.  I will release him."

Zhuqiaomon drew away from the others.  "And will you tell Ichijouji?"

Xuanwumon flared and his tone was vehement.  "No!  Telling him would be the same as telling the creature inside him.  This will be our secret for now."

Qinglongmon also moved away from his brethren.  "I will contact Gennai now and tell him to prepare for the             Tamer.  When the sun next rises on the Digital World Akyama Ryo will be returned."

Xuanwumon faded back to his previous dimness.  "And then things will truly begin."

There was a faint sound and the Guardians turned Baihumon.  The Guardian of the West was laughing; it was an unusually bitter sound.  "It 'began' a long time ago, old friend.  This" his light flared outwards, "is all just the beginning of the end."

**~*********************~**


	2. Esau Have I Hated

**

Eidolon Am I

The Revelations Arch: Book 2

~ The future is only a reaction to the past. ~

By: Vain 12/19/2001

~***~

This story is the sequel to "For They Shall Be Filled" and is **Book Two of The Revelations Arch**.  

And, before you panic: _NO_, this story will not be as long as its predecessor.  I think.  I hope.  Probably . . . Er . . . Maybe . . . Okay, I don't really have the slightest clue how long this will be—I just write what the voices tell me to.  *The muses all cheer* They're eeeeeeeevil . . . 

  **If you have not read "For They Shall Be Filled," GO READ IT NOW!!**

If you have read "For They Shall Be Filled," good for you!!!  My muses and I salute you.  You should also have figured out by now that I don't own Digimon, or any of the characters pertaining to it.  

I do however—as far as I know—own most of the plot bunnies here, the Four Original Guardians of the Digidestined (Kazunori Saito, Sanghee Kiangtzu, ect.), the concept of the Sacred Triangle, and the Original Nine.  Genka Millenniumon is on loan from the gracious Ajora.  Special thanks go to **Herongale**, **Dante**, **Meimi, the Guardian,** and **Ajora**.  This wouldn't be possible without all your help.  Thank you.  ^_~

The quotes are from the Thomas Nelson version of the King James Bible © 1979, Belgium.

Enjoy the fic and **READ AND REVIEW** please!

**~*********************~**

This story takes place after episodes 26. "Jogress Evolution, Two Hearts as One" and  

27. "Invincible Fusion! Paildramon," and before episode 28. "The Bug Master's Trap"—in the American version, that's after Stingmon and X-Vmon first Jogress digivolve and before Giga House.

**~*********************~**

Chapter One Esau Have I Hated 

**~*****~**

**" 'Behold, away from the fatness of the earth shall thy dwelling be, **

**and away from the dew of heaven on high.  **

**And by thy sword shalt thou live, and shalt serve thy brother; **

**and it shall come to pass when thou shalt have dominion, **

**that thou shalt break his yoke from off they neck.' "**

Genesis 27: 39 & 40 

**~***************~**__

This is all, first and foremost, a story.  It is not a tale, or an epic, or a legend; it is just a story.  Plain and simple.  It is my story.  It is the story of why what is is and why what has passed has passed away.  

My brother once asked me what dead people dream as they sleep.  I do not sleep, but when I dream, I dream of memories.

**~***************~**

_I remember . . ._ I remember . . .

He was so little the first time I saw him.  I remember I had to stand on my tiptoes to peer through the glass he was behind.  They wouldn't let anyone hold him.  His tiny body was covered with all sorts of wires and two tubes ran up his nose that looked too big for him and they had him in a strange plastic box with holes in the sides.  There were lots of machines, some had moving lines and some had flashing lights, but they all emitted this same quiet humming noise.  It was simply amazing to see so many big machines all for the sole purpose of keeping one tiny little body alive.

There were a lot of doctors and nurses running around too.  At only six years of age, I didn't understand what the words premature, placenta previa, and intracranial hemorrhaging were, but I could read the adults' faces easily enough.

"What do you think doctor?"

"I won't lie to you, Ichijouji-san . . . He's 11 weeks early and there have been . . . complications . . . He has a 50 to 60% chance.  We've done all we can now.  The rest is up to him."

_Up to him?_  I remember staring at this little thing swathed in all that white, white cloth and thinking, _Up to him?  Papa says his lungs aren't ready yet.  Papa says he can't even breathe by himself.  How could they leave something so important up to him when he won't even breathe?_

Everyone was so sad.  I didn't understand it at all.

_"Now Osamu,"_ Papa had said to me in the car, _"if you want to see Mama and your brother, you have to promise me you'll be a good boy.  Okay?"_

_"Is it really true that ototochan won't live?"_

_"Who told you that?"_

_"Auntie.  They say he's sick.  They say he came too early.  Is it true, Papa?"_

_"Osamu . . . Your ototochan is still weak because Mama had some problems and he had to be born too soon.  But he's still alive and fighting and we have to believe in him if he's going to make it, okay sport?  So since he's not strong, you'll have to be strong for him and since he can't fight, you have to fight for him.  He's part of you, and you're responsible to him.  This is your duty as his oniisan.  Do you understand?"_

_"I understand, Papa."_

_"You're a good boy, Osamu."_

So there I was, staring at this strange little creature that looked more like a lump of red dough than a human and being so terribly angry with him for not living and for being born so weak.  I hated him for not fighting hard enough and for making me be his oniisan and forcing me to fight and be strong for him when I didn't know how.

_Live_, I willed him mentally.  _Live.  Right now_.

"Papa, will he live?" I had asked.

The adults all exchanged a Look.  One of those looks that children aren't supposed to see, but they always do and they always understand them.  They didn't answer me.

"Why doesn't ototochan have a name, Papa?"

"Well, sport . . . Mama wanted to choose it and she hasn't decided yet."

"Well, don't names make things real?"

Papa had looked confused, but nodded anyway.

"Then if he's going to live he needs a name.  Can I name him?"   

It was only later that I would understand why Papa and the doctor had looked so relieved when I asked Papa that.  "If you want to, sport."

"I think that's a great idea," the doctor had agreed. 

I don't know why I choose what I did . . . foreshadowing maybe?  Or perhaps it was wishful thinking.  " Ken.  Can we call him Ichijouji Ken?"  

That had been on my first visit to the hospital, six days after Ken-chan was born.  I gave him a name.  I made him real.

After that he improved greatly and I went to see him often.  I saw Mama a lot too, but she always seemed to be a bit pale and quiet.  I didn't take note of this until I was coming to see Mama from the place where they kept Ken and all the rest of the small babies.  They kept Ken and Mama in different rooms, so I always had to go from Ken to Mama.  Papa usually went to see Mama when I was with ototochan.  I don't remember Mama ever being with him until we went home. 

They were fighting when I walked up to the door to Mama's room—almost yelling.  My parents had never yelled at each other before.  After Mama started getting big with Ken, she stared to act funny and snapped at me and Poppa a lot, but they had never actually fought.  I hid around the corner and held my breath, straining to hear them.  What were they saying?  Did it involve me?  Was it about ototochan?  What were they saying?

_"Rika, please—"_

"No, Tsu.  I won't.  I don't even want to see him."

_"Rika, he is your son!"_

_". . . He should have died in the womb."_

It took me years to understand that and I still don't think I know everything that happened during those few weeks.  I would tell Ken about it one day, though.  Someway or another I would always tell Ken about everything.

_"Am I real, Oniichan?  Really real?"_

_"Yes, Ken-chan.  You're real."_

They brought him home almost two months later, strong and healthy as though he had always been that way.  I still can't remember Mama touching him though.

And that is how Ichijouji Ken came into the world.

**~*********************~**


	3. Pillar of Smoke, Pillar of Fire

**

Eidolon Am I

The Revelations Arch: Book 2

~ The future is only a reaction to the past. ~

By: Vain 12/19/2001

~***~

This story is the sequel to "For They Shall Be Filled" and is **Book Two of The Revelations Arch**.  

And, before you panic: _NO_, this story will not be as long as its predecessor.  I think.  I hope.  Probably . . . Er . . . Maybe . . . Okay, I don't really have the slightest clue how long this will be—I just write what the voices tell me to.  *The muses all cheer* They're eeeeeeeevil . . . 

  **If you have not read "For They Shall Be Filled," GO READ IT NOW!!**

If you have read "For They Shall Be Filled," good for you!!!  My muses and I salute you.  You should also have figured out by now that I don't own Digimon, or any of the characters pertaining to it.  

I do however—as far as I know—own most of the plot bunnies here, the Four Original Guardians of the Digidestined (Kazunori Saito, Sanghee Kiangtzu, ect.), the concept of the Sacred Triangle, and the Original Nine.  Genka Millenniumon is on loan from the gracious Ajora.  Special thanks go to **Herongale**, **Dante**, **Meimi****, the Guardian,** and **Ajora**.  This wouldn't be possible without all your help.  Thank you.  ^_~

The quotes are from the Thomas Nelson version of the King James Bible © 1979, Belgium.

Enjoy the fic and **READ AND REVIEW** please!

**~*********************~**

Chapter Two Pillar of Smoke, Pillar of Fire 

**~*****~**

**"And he looked toward ****Sodom**** and ****Gomorrah****, and toward all the land of the plains, and beheld and, lo, the smoke of the country went up as the smoke of a furnace."**

Genesis 19: 28 

**~***************~**__

Hikari walked slowly to the top of the hill and tried to push down the bile that was rising in the back of her throat.  She stared down at her tennis shoes, refusing to look up at the swollen tequila orange sky or focus on the oil-slicked crab grass beneath her.  She had walked this path what seemed like a thousand times to stare down into the valley that lay beneath.  It never changed.

She reached the top of the hill and stopped, exhaling the humid air heavily.  It clung to the back of her throat and she gagged.

"Look, Hikari-chan."

Her hair shifted slightly as the girl looked up at the sound of the voice and her eyes crinkled a bit at the edges when she saw Daisuke.  He was pointing down the steep declivity of the hill to the field that lay beneath.

"Daisuke—" 

"Look!" he hissed determinedly.

The girl's face twisted into a grimaced and she obeyed reluctantly.  Her soft maroon eyes shimmered faintly and she gagged again at what was stretched beneath them.

It once had perhaps been a battlefield, but now all that remained was a butcher block.  

The grass of the valley was churned up and matted; men, horses, and strange, four legged animal-like creatures scattered haphazardly across the ground.  The sun was an angry red color and baked the blood-thickened mud to a hard crust.  The scent of rot, vomit, defecation, and death was over powering, encouraging the carrion birds over-head to alight on the nearest convenient corpse and feed.  The buzzing of the flies was so thick the sound was almost visible.  Large, hunchbacked humanoids carrying stained gray sacs moved through the graveyard, swatting away the buzzards and fleshing eating gnats.  Occasionally one would stop next to one of the less mangled bodies, grab a limb, and rip it off and hurriedly stuff it into its sac before its brethren could steal the body part away.  

Hikari wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned away.  The first time she had seen this she had thrown up and then passed out.  

Daisuke watched her with sad velvet brown eyes.  "You never really get used to it."

The girl shivered.  "Why do they take the limbs?"

"To feed.  They feed so that they can breed so that there are more of them to collect food.  There's no more meaning to their lives than that."  His voice trailed off sadly, a small sound against the buzzing and macabre bustle of the scavengers below.

"What are they?"

"A type of human.  One of a thousand.  I'm sure that there's some big long name for them, but there's no one left to give it to them."

She blinked as she digested that bit of information.  "Where are all the people?"

Daisuke tilted his head in an odd way and his eyes reflected the sky, turning them a bloody crimson.  Hikari frowned and looked back at the field.  That was not Dai's body language—it was Ken's . . . And for some reason she was far more comfortable looking at the mauled, ground-up people below her than she was looking at a Daisuke who moved like Ichijouji Ken.  There should never be _anything_ in Daisuke that was like Ken.  _Ever_.

The goggle-boy shrugged.  "Dead.  The ones who tried to run couldn't escape.  The ones who tried to collaborate were sacrificed as offerings."

The Child of Light looked up sharply.  "Offerings?" 

Daisuke nodded and turned back to the field.  "To God."

"And who is God?"

The boy shook his head and scowled at the ground.  For a moment neither of them spoke and a foul wind blew, carrying the scent of decay up to their noses.  A sliver of paper clung to her leg from an unknown source and she ignored it.

Hikari wrapped her arms around herself and dropped down into a crouch.  "Why do you bring me here every night?"

"You come of your own will.  In your dreams.  I'm just the one you wanted to see."  He looked away from her.  "I am the last of us.  TK, Miyako, Taichi, Yama, Iori, Jyou, Koushiro, Mimi, Ken," his voice cracked on the word 'Ken,' "Sora, _you_ . . . I am the last.  I hid and He couldn't find me.  I ran."  The boy clenched his fists and his body trembled slightly.  "The Child of Courage and Friendship ran . . . And left his friends behind . . . I ran so very far away I thought they'd never get me."

Hikari's heart ached and for a moment she forgot that, no matter how horrid or realistic this was, this was all just a dream.  This boy was not Daisuke.  This field was not here.  This was not real.

But the tortured look on the face of this boy who was so like her Daisuke yet wasn't was something too vivid to be false and she ached to wrap her arms around him and comfort him.  

She stood up and swallowed.  "This isn't real, you know."

It was cold comfort and she knew it.

The boy's eyes hardened in that way that didn't belong to him and Hikari looked away again.  His voice was cold.  "It's real to me."

". . ."

"It will be real to you too one day.  Soon."

"What do you mean?"

The right side of Daisuke's mouth twitched slightly and it took her a moment to realize that the boy was sneering at her.  He pointed at the piece of paper that still clung to her leg.  "See for yourself."

Her eyes flickered and another shiver crawled up her spine.  "What?"

"Look," he repeated.

She was still for a minute and then bent over with infinite slowness and pulled the paper off her leg.  It was a bit of newspaper, a scrap written in some romanized gibberish language that she couldn't read.  They all looked the same to her anyway.  She looked up at Daisuke without comprehension and he grabbed the paper from her and shoved it in her face, forcing her to recoil and blink rapidly.  

The date was written in tiny size six font in the upper right hand corner and it took her a moment to translate the western style into Japanese.  

"December 17th . . ." Her eyes widened as she stared at the year.  "This . . . can't be right . . ."

Her jaw clenched and her eyes darted to Dai's face.  The boy's smile turned from cruel to bitter.  "It's January 29th today.  One year after this was printed.  It was the last one printed.  The Czech Republic was the last country to fall.  Today my sister would have turned 20.  She wanted to go to college, you know."

She jerked her head to the side in a painful gesture.  "I—"

"You're putting the pieces together forwards to back, you know.  You better get a clue before they meet in the middle."  Daisuke balled the paper up and threw it off the hill.  It was caught by a breeze and blown away.  "By then it will be too late for Ken.  For me.  For everyone."

"Ken?  This is about Ken?"

The dark-skinned boy snorted.  "No!  You all always got so hung up on Ken!  This has nothing to do with Ken!  Not directly.  Moon=Millenniumon is the one to worry about.  Daemon.  Vandemon—" 

She lurched away from him suddenly.  "Vandemon is dead!"

"No.  Nothing ever dies.  That's the whole point."

Hikari opened her mouth to say something, but a flash of light flared in the eastern sky and Daisuke turned away.

A hand flew up to cover his mouth and Hikari took a step towards him.  He jerked away.  

"Dais—"

The boy whirled around and his eyes looked unnaturally large.  He grabbed her wrists and literally threw her back.  "Run, Hikari-san!" he whispered.  "Go now!"

She hit the slimy ground and gasped as the air left her lungs with a soft 'oof' sound.  She leaned forward, trying to see Daisuke in the growing brilliance but all that was left of him was a fading shadow against the light.

"Daisuke . . ."

And then there was nothing.

**~***************~**

The bed shuddered and Wormmon's eyes slid open lazily.  His large blue orbs blinked in the darkness for a moment before he focused on the boy next to him.  Ken's eyebrows were drawn and his breath came in soft pants.  He muttered and shifted restlessly in his sleep, a fine sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.  Delicate lines of pain had formed around his mouth, drawing his lips into a tight line.

The digimon uncurled and stretched, feeling the faint pop as his carapus shifted over his flesh.  He yawned and puttered forward gracelessly to nuzzle his boy's cheek.  "Ken-chan."

The human groaned faintly.

"Ken-chan."  The digimon rose up on his hind pods and gently pushed against Ken's shoulder.  "Wake up."

"Mmmm . . ." A pale hand waved at Wormmon and the digimon's eyes narrowed in a frown. 

"Ken-chan!"  He pushed on the human again, harder this time.  "Ken, wake up!"

"Tired," the boy responded in a slurred whisper.  "Sleep."

"Ken!!  Wake up!"  He pushed his head against Ken shoulder and his tail pinchers clicked worriedly.  "Wake!  Up!"

He stopped when Ken's eyes fluttered open.  "Ken-chan?  You awake now?"

Icy violet eyes blinked sightlessly for a moment before Ken shivered slightly and burrowed beneath his covers.  He reached out and pulled the digimon close to him and his voice sounded thick with sleep.  "What's wrong, Wormmon?"

The virus type snuggled down into his partner's arms and his antennae twitched unhappily.  "You looked funny.  Like you where in pain . . ." He sighed and wiggled around for a moment before settling down again.  "What's wrong?"

"Headaches.  Migraines; I used to get them a lot when I was younger. They're nothing to worry about."

Wormmon pulled out of Ken's arms reluctantly and turned around to face his human.  His eyes shone brightly in the faint light in the room.  "Headaches when you're asleep?"

Ken grunted in response and shivered again.  "Sleep.  We'll talk in the morning."

The digimon pouted.  "No.  I want to talk now.  You've been acting weird ever since the Jogress.  Why'd you turn Daisuke-san down?  He just wants to help."

A single eye opened and Ken scowled faintly.  "We'll talk in the morning, Wormmon."

"We'll talk now," the little creature replied stubbornly.

"Well then you can talk to yourself because I am going back to sleep," Ken snapped peevishly.

Large blue eyes shimmered.  "Ken-chan . . ."

The boy opened his eyes again and sat up, his face slightly contorted in the night.  He pulled his knees up to his chest and rubbed his eyes.  "Wormmon, I am _tired_!  Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"I'm worried about you, Ken-chan.  You're so tired all the time and you don't really seem to be paying attention to anything much . . ." The digimon trailed off uncertainly, his soft warble sounding weak and too quiet in the darkness.

Ken buried his face in his knees and covered his head with his arms.  "Well maybe I wouldn't be tired if _you_ would let me get some sleep!"

The digimon flinched and unconsciously skittered backwards to avoid a blow that wasn't coming.  Ken peered out over his knees, his expression hidden beneath his arms.  He turned away again.

"I . . . Wormmon . . . I'm sorry.  I didn't mean that . . ." He uncurled and tucked his legs beneath him Indian-style.  He looked down at the bedspread.  "I . . . I'm just so tired all the time . . . No matter how much I sleep I . . ."

The little virus waddled across the sheets and climbed into Ken's lap.

"My head hurts," the boy muttered faintly.  He hugged his digimon.

"Is it the dreams again?  Like before?"

Ken shook his head slowly.  "No.  No dreams . . . I haven't dreamed since . . ."

"Ken-chan?"

"It's nothing . . ."

Wormmon's antennae drooped unhappily.  "You haven't dreamed since the Jogress, have you?"  Ken shivered and the digimon looked up at him.  "My dreams have changed, too.  They're not so scary anymore and I don't dream about being alone.  Or about when you were different."

"I don't dream," Ken whispered.  "I don't think I can anymore . . ."

Wormmon shifted slightly as Ken leaned back against the wall at the head of his bed.  "Then why do you look so upset at night, Ken-chan?  You used to sleep like that when you were the Kaiser.  I'd sneak in and watch you."

Ken tilted his head to the side.  "Why?"

"What?"  The digimon twisted around in his arms to get a better look at Ken's face.

"Why would you come in and watch me?

Wormmon's tail pincers clicked faintly and his brows lowered a bit.  "I don't know . . . I guess I missed you."  He closed his eyes and rested his head against Ken's chest, nuzzling the soft cotton material of his shirt.  "I missed you a lot then."

The child smiled faintly and hugged the creature gently.  "I missed you too."

"Then tell me what's wrong?"

Pale hands gently pushed back the soft plastic-like antennae and Ken sighed heavily.  "This . . . shared digimon thing . . . I don't trust it.  I don't want to lose you."

"But Ken . . ." Wormmon wiggled free and climbed up the boy's chest so that they were eye to eye, "It wasn't like that at all.  You won't lose me.  Not ever.  There was me and there was Veemon, but we weren't the same thing together.  We were still ourselves."  He closed his eyes and laid his head down on his human's shoulder.  "I know you don't really like it when we jogress, but what about when you and Daisuke-san do it?  Doesn't it make you feel better?  All warm and safe?  It's like when you hold me like this; I'm safe."

Ken opened his eyes.  "No.  It doesn't feel like that at all.  At first it like my mind is washed away in this wave of warm water.  I can feel Motomiya . . . in my head . . . the touch of his mind against mine.  He feels like sharp peppermint—goes through me, penetrates me.  It's a . . . staggering sensation."  He bit his lip.  "But then . . . there's something else.  It's so quiet, so soft against the completely enveloping feel of Motomiya that at first I thought I was imagining it.  But I can feel it now . . . when I sleep.  It's cold and hard and hollow and  . . . black."  His voice cracked.  "It's me, Wormmon.  That feeling when we jogress: that's my mind.  That's what Motomiya feels from me.  It's so . . . flat."

Wormmon blinked.  "Did Daisuke-san tell you that?"

"He didn't have to tell me.  I can feel it moving around inside me.  Like spiders on my brain."

"Ken-chan."  The digimon's face twisted slightly into his version of frown.  "I—"

"I don't like it, Wormmon."

The virus sighed heavily.  "This all started with the Jogress?"

A whisper.  "No.  It just came back with the Jogress.  I had thought it was over after Oniisan died.  It started a few months before that—things moving around in my head.  It wasn't right.  Oniisan said I was being silly."

"I think you should tell Daisuke-san."

"And alienate him too?"  A sharp bark of bitter laughter broke the silence of the darkened room.  "Thanks, but no thanks."

"But I don't think he would want to do it again if he didn't like it, Ken-chan," Wormmon insisted.  "What about Takeru-san?  You like Takeru-san, don't you?  It didn't feel like that when you two did the triangle thing, did it?"

"No . . ." Ken frowned.  "But that didn't have anything to do with digimon or our partner bonds.  That was a much more superficial connection.  It didn't go all through me like Motomiya's mind does.  It was much different."

"Then talk to him.  He's known Daisuke-san for a long time and you always seem to be able to relax more when you're talking to him."  Wormmon nuzzled him.  "Besides you haven't really talked to the others since the base was destroyed."

"Mmmm . . . I think I got an email this morning from Motomiya . . . I haven't checked it yet."

"Don't you want to know what it says?"

Ken yawned and his eyes lidded heavily.  "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Wormmon.  I—I haven't been myself lately."

"I know, Ken."  Solemn blue eyes watched his face carefully in the darkness.  "It's okay.  What about the email?"

The child shrugged and unfolded his legs beneath the blanket.  "I'll get to it tomorrow, I guess.  Can we go to sleep now?"

"Will you talk to Takeru-san?"

"I don't _need to talk to Takeru-san!" he muttered irritably.  "I __need to go to sleep."_

Wormmon balked.  "You need to talk to someone, Ken-chan!" the little creature retorted as forcibly as he could muster.

There was a sound that sounded something like a growl in the darkness and Wormmon stiffened for a moment, unsure of what his boy was getting ready to do.  Ken may not be the Kaiser anymore, but it still wasn't wise to goad him on.  The digimon flinched as Ken raised his hand and pushed back his hair and cursed himself for the motion.

Ken didn't notice.  "I'll talk to someone," he whispered quietly in the darkness.  "May we go to sleep now?"  

The little insect type heaved a surprisingly heavy sigh for such a small creature.  "Yes, Ken-chan.  We'll go to sleep now."

**~*********************~**


	4. Who Am I To Blow Against the Wind?

**

Eidolon Am I

The Revelations Arch: Book 2

~ The future is only a reaction to the past. ~

By: Vain 12/19/2001

~***~

This story is the sequel to "For They Shall Be Filled" and is **Book Two of The Revelations Arch**.  

And, before you panic: _NO_, this story will not be as long as its predecessor.  I think.  I hope.  Probably . . . Er . . . Maybe . . . Okay, I don't really have the slightest clue how long this will be—I just write what the voices tell me to.  *The muses all cheer* They're eeeeeeeevil . . . 

  **If you have not read "For They Shall Be Filled," GO READ IT NOW!!**

If you have read "For They Shall Be Filled," good for you!!!  My muses and I salute you.  You should also have figured out by now that I don't own Digimon, or any of the characters pertaining to it.  

I do however—as far as I know—own most of the plot bunnies here, the Four Original Guardians of the Digidestined (Kazunori Saito, Sanghee Kiangtzu, ect.), the concept of the Sacred Triangle, and the Original Nine.  Genka Millenniumon is on loan from the gracious Ajora.  Special thanks go to **Herongale**, **Dante**, **Meimi****, the Guardian,** and **Ajora**.  This wouldn't be possible without all your help.  Thank you.  ^_~

The quotes are from the Thomas Nelson version of the King James Bible © 1979, Belgium.

Enjoy the fic and **READ AND REVIEW** please!

A/N: I am SO sorry about the massive delay.  *hangs her head*  BUT~~ my comp is getting fixed now, so hopefully things will be back to normal soon.  ^_^V  Please don't kill me after this chapter . . .

**~*********************~**

Chapter Three Who Am I to Blow Against the Wind 

**~*****~**

**" 'Two**** nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger.' "**

Genesis 25: 23 

**~***************~**__

They said that I was a genius because I knew better than to force a square peg into a round hole.  They said Ken was "a bit slow" because whenever they shoved a camera in his face his eyes would go wide and he'd hide behind me or bury himself behind Mama's skirts.  He was always like that, shying back from the slightest hint of the spotlight, even when fame was a novel word in conjunction with the name Ichijouji and he was too small to grasp the concept.  

I once asked him why he hated it so much and he told me that he didn't like the way all those eyes felt on him.  Like they were skittering over his skin.  I laughed at him, but Mama and Papa didn't say anything at all.  I think Mama always thought that Ken was a little bit crazy.  I could never tell with her.

Ken took after her more than either of them is willing to admit, but he always leaned more toward the existential.  They all said that he wasn't smart.  They said that he wouldn't ever be really normal or special like me because he had been born so early.  They didn't understand anything.  Then again, the same could be said for me.

Of course, I was a child then and as a child I believed them.  A part of me still believes them.  It gave me a sense of purpose, something much more concrete than smiling at a camera or pretending I held the key to the secrets of the universe.  

Ken's eyes would go wide and he's hungrily absorb ever morsel of wisdom I let drop—regardless of whether or not it was true wisdom.

_"It's dangerous, Samu," Ryo would say to me.  And I'd brush him off like it didn't matter to me—like __he didn't matter to me._

_"You can't just go playing with people like that.  This isn't a game and he's not your toy.  He's you're brother, Osamu.  You're little brother—"_

_"That's right **MY little BROTHER!" I'd snarl.  My answer was always the same and Ryo would always pale slightly and then flush a deep, deep red.**_

My little brother.  Not Ryo's little brother.  Not Tsuyoshi and Rika's son.  Osamu's little brother.  So why should Ryo care for him?

It had been our only argument.  Ken was my responsibility—no one else's.  And as much as I resented Ken for forcing me into that position, a position I never wanted to begin with, it defined me and I'd fight like hell against anyone who thought they could replace me.  Especially Ryo.

And after the digivice incident, it was always Ryo who challenged me.  Mother and father were just grateful that Ken was in capable hands and, in their eyes at least, I needed as much maintenance as your average houseplant.  But from the moment Ken came tumbling out of my computer screen, everything changed.

If it hadn't been for that we could have been happy.  We would have been, of that I am utterly convinced.  

But the Idiot Gods sent him the damn thing anyway and I got it and hid it away.  I wasn't called a genius for nothing.  The minute I picked that thing up I _knew it wasn't for me.  I knew when I locked it away that I was playing with something much bigger than myself or Ken, or the little machine itself.  And I **knew that it understood what I was doing and that it didn't like me at all.**_

Why should that have mattered to me, though?  I was Ichijouji Osamu, a god in my own right.  I had fought against Death itself and won Ken, why not Fate too?  Why not spit in the very face of God, if need be?  What did I have to fear—to lose?

My family?  I was never extremely attached to Mother and Father, anyway.  Oh, I loved them, still do, but we were never a very open or affectionate family.  Sometimes I wonder if we all would have turned out this way if we had all just sat down one day and actually _talked.  If Father had carried Ken on his shoulders or if we had all went to the park.  If I had been normal._

My life?  No.  Death was too immense, too abstract and I was too powerful to know what that meant back then.  All I knew about death was tubes and hospital incubators and coincidental miracles where names held the power to save not only a life, but the world itself.  Beyond the flawed memories of the child I had been, death did not exist.

And Ken?  My Ken?

To be honest, it never occurred to me.  It had been an accepted fact in my mind that no one wanted Ken.  And I told him as much.  I wasn't being cruel or spiteful, I was being what thought was honest.  Nothing I ever told him was a lie—not in my mind.  I had been so hell-bent on teaching him my bitter, selective truths that I never considered that my way of thinking was wrong or flawed.  No one had ever told me I was wrong or flawed.

I had never ever had to compete for Ken.  Ken had had to compete for me.  It was simply a fact of life.  No one would ever—could ever—take Ken from me.

So imagine my surprise when that's exactly what they did.  Fate did _not like being challenged and it reached out and grabbed Ken and snatched him away before I even knew he was gone.  He was only gone for a moment.  I had just turned my back for an instant.  But when he came back to me, time had passed._

I could see it in his eyes.

And the look of sheer and utter delight, delight without me—ME!  To whom he owed his very life!—was absolutely the most terrifying thing I had ever seen in my life.  Because for the first time since his release from the hospital, he had been separated from me.  He knew a life without me.  And while he told me he had lived a week in that moment, I still had only lived a moment.  I had not been granted the liberty of living a week without his constant, clinging presence.  _I had had no reprieve—no experience that I could remember of living without Ken.  _

It was at that moment that I struck him, knocking him down onto the ground and sending the evil little device that had introduced such misery sliding across the carpet.  Ken had never been struck before.  He was a good child, an _odd child, but a well-behaved one.  He always did what he was told when and how he was told.  I could have counted on one hand how often I raised my voice to him before that day.  __Before that day . . ._

Because after that day, a new variable had been entered into the equation.  I had never considered the possibility that Ken might stop needing me before I stopped needing him.  He came to me for everything.  But whatever he had done during that week instilled him with some strange core of strength that I lacked and didn't understand.

My baby brother had outgrown me.

I couldn't allow such a thing to happen.  Ken defined me.  Made me.  Owned me.  And on that day I suddenly understood that he had somehow surpassed me at the whim of something as impartial as Fate and it was unbearable. The more he grew and the less I could touch him, the less he would need me.  I learned on that day that one day I too would be cast aside, just as Ken had been.

So I fought.  I fought Fate and in doing so, fought its vessel: Ken.  I excelled even further in school, giving Ken no time to catch up.  I suddenly courted attention, craved and longed for it as it was something that Ken didn't have.  I monopolized our parents' time, more often than not unintentionally, until I was the only one left.  

Ken would have me or he would have nothing at all.

And, being a true genius, I did it all without knowing it or knowing why.  

I look back and try to say I didn't understand what I was doing and that I was too young to even imagine the seeds I was sowing, but I had ample warning.  I knew that there would be consequences to my actions.  I just didn't believe it.

So I hid from myself, telling myself that I knew what was best and alienating my brother even as I bound him to me so tightly that not even in death could we ever be separated again.  

**_I hated him.  _**

I hated him more than there are words for it.  I hated him so much that I choked on it every time I breathed.  But for every bit of hate, there was twice as much love and I held that to me like a shield that could keep out the world that had so wronged me.  I poured all that hatred down his throat until he was sick with it because I couldn't deal with it and no one could ever know it was there.  He was so small that it seemed to fit him anyway; a perfect burden for his shoulders to bear as he had caused it and, combined with the burden of loving him, I couldn't possibly move beneath the weight of such intense, conflicting emotion.

He drank it in as he did everything I gave him, too young to know poison when it was handed to him with a smile and a hug.

I spat in the face of Fate.  I thought I had won.  I thought Ken was mine again.  I thought we were safe—_I was safe._

And then one day I opened the door and came face to face with Akiyama Ryo and my world fell apart.

**~*********************~**


End file.
